The War Correspondent

"Good evening ' I'm Ross Symons, with the news from ABC
A record profit's been announced by the Board of BHP
In the second cricket test in Perth, the Aussies face defeat
Whilst the drought in Western New South Wales
Means dearer cuts of meat
And our special correspondent in Saigon
Says three Australian soldiers have died in Vietnam

The special correspondent sat in a Saigon bar
With the help of Johnny Walker he pushed away the war
And questions with no answers that had rattled round his head
Had lost their urgent clarity and were faded round the edge
Thought tomorrow they'd again be sharp and clear
Tonight they had been lost amongst the bar girls and the beer

Ask a silly question, like why the heel we're here
Learning how to live with death, suffering and fear,
War's a game for soldiers; it's not for men like you.
Is there something that you have to find
Or something you must prove
Or are you hooked upon the adrenaline
That living on the edge of dying brings

But here you are in Vietnam; you're a long way from home
Doing what you're paid to do, the best way that you can
Objectively you watch the war, never taking sides
And what you feel, what you really feel, is hidden deep inside
You're not being paid to moralize,
And anyway, a can lose his reason asking why.

And if you ever get back home, you'll never be the same
The man that was before Vietnam can never be again,
But in ten years when you look back to weigh and count the cost,
Perhaps you'll find that Vietnam gave you back more than you lost
And from it, if you learn nothing else,
Perhaps you may get to know yourself.

Roll up, roll up and see the show, TV soldiers in a row
Hear them laugh, hear them cry, watch them run, see them die
It's not in color, but that's all right
War's better viewed in black and white
White for us and black for them
With no gray shadows in between.